


Moving Forward

by TheWholeDamnTime



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: AU, AU- Credence died at MACUSA's hand, Alternate Universe, Completed, Excuse me for being useless shipper trash, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8625772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWholeDamnTime/pseuds/TheWholeDamnTime
Summary: Newt comes back to New York roughly a year later to mourn Credence, and Tina is there to help him get through it. A small journey of fluff and hurt, of love and comfort.





	1. Reunited

There was something brewing in the sky.

The clouds hung grey and heavy over New York, their damp chill spreading over the city and making Porpentina pull her coat just a little tighter around her body as she determinedly walked towards the docks. The copy of the book Newt had brought her was tucked underneath her coat, held tight to her chest. She had read it over a half dozen times by now, the pages crinkled and spine bent from all its use, but she was still planning on reading it as she waited for his ship to reach shore. Settling on a wooden bench that creaked beneath her weight, she pulled the leather-bound copy out. Idly, she flipped to the page on Swooping Evils and smiled softly, running her fingers over the beautifully colored illustration. Her eyes skimmed the words, the tiny writing that noted how he knew the creature could deflect spells from experience, the carefully collected details of his anatomical findings, each and every word she’d read over and over again. Some were hand-written in, just for her. He told her when he handed it to her that he’d annotated it on the boat ride over, to make it her very own. His handwriting was gentle slants and loops, thoughtful and careful but with a little quiver of nerves in the swooping inked line.  She smiled when her fingers skimmed over the little added details, the personal touches meant just for her.

It was then she felt someone walking up behind her, jumped at the gentle press of a hand on her shoulder, immediately grabbing for her wand before she realized who it was.

“I rather thought you’d have finished by now,” he said, beaming at her with barely restrained excitement, his case in his other hand and Picket peeking from his coat pocket.

They’d established some semblance of a relationship last time, a practically pleading question leading to their frenzied kiss on the docks that ended with her back pressed against a pillar and his hair significantly more ruffled than when they’d arrived- thankfully with all transgressions unseen by others. In their letters, neither of them mentioned it. Perhaps it was too sensitive, or they were too anxious to even breach the subject. Maybe it was something that needed to be said in person. There was something in her that didn’t care, though, and she set down the text to step around the bench and slip her arms around his neck.

“I have. Seven times, in fact.” There was a light smirk in her smile as delight flashed across his features at her admission. She heard him put down the case with a light _thud_ , and then his hand was gently cupping her cheek, thumb brushing aside a curl of brown hair as it swept back and forth over her skin.

“Can I-”

“Of course you can,” she interrupted, the words a breathless huff of air, and he let the warmth of those words caress his lips before he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. There was something about the action that made her realize how much she had missed him, and he her. It was warm and tender and everything she loved about him, and as they pulled away, they were both beaming.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying I missed you,” he said softly, a slight awkwardness to the words like he hadn’t planned anything beyond kissing her. _Which, in all honesty, is probably true,_ she thought to herself.

“I missed you, too,” she breathed, arms still looped around his neck, not wanting to lose this closeness for just a moment longer. His eyes were wide and enraptured by her, beaming, but she knew they couldn’t stay like this forever, as much as she wanted to at that moment. Moving onto her toes, she kissed his cheek and uncoiled her arms from around his neck. He let her go slowly, fingers trailing like he didn’t want to stop touching her, before he bent to gather his suitcase (thankfully doubly secured with some sturdy rope) and she her book. Together, they walked into a secluded corner and, with a sound like the wind rushing through the trees of central park, apparated home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so this was supposed to be a one-shot. And then I started writing and couldn't stop, so get ready for a lot of domestic fluff. 
> 
> Please give recommendations for naming this! Honestly, I am terrible beyond terrible with work titles (just look at my freaking history with these things) and would love some suggestions. I know I haven't really given too much for you guys to work with yet, but hopefully my (similarly awful) summary gives you some ideas. Thanks so much for reading and I hope to have the newest chapter up soon!


	2. Mornings

Their first few days together were pure leisure- the two of them exploring the ins and outs of a city she knew like the feeling of his hand in hers. They’d frequently meet up with Queenie and Jacob for mealtimes, lunches at the park or dinners in the vast expanse of the city. Tina could feel it as her sister picked through the day’s events, catching the smirks that flicked over her expression at some of the more… private moments and mentally preparing herself for the squealing, excited rambling that would come when they were alone. Newt would discuss the creatures or, really, any aspect of the magical community as the no-maj listened with rapt attention and excitedly probed with question after question. The magizoologist always seemed more than happy to explain any and every nuance of their community. Queenie always told her that the only person happier that they’d secretly restored her love’s memories than herself was Newt, and while Tina didn’t have the legilimancy skills of her sister, her lips always curled up at the thought of the delighted expression that had taken over his face at the news.

Newt preferred to sleep in his suitcase the nights he was over- not only did it prevent the landlady from ever finding him, but he liked being close to his creatures. Tina completely understood why- some mornings she would come down the ladder to the sight of the niffler gently rising and falling with each deep breath the magizoologist took, other times to find Dougal gently picking through his curls or Picket sleeping atop his shoulder, tucked into the curve of his neck. It was always incredibly sweet, and more often than not she’d let it continue for just a few moments more, leaving him to rest and instead tiptoeing onto the porch to watch the artificial daybreak rise above his menagerie of creatures and their habitats. The erumpent would make a bellowing noise that shook the mugs she brought, signaling a mixture of territorialism and a greeting, while the moon calves curled up and fell asleep for the day. The giant dung beetles were already at work as the light crawled above what horizon there was, and she watched as they continued to clean up the pens and whisk it away to their own den. She would wait until they passed to breathe it all in- the wet, fresh scent of the plants mixed with something musky and animal. Some mornings he’d smell the scents of the coffee and tea twining together and let it pull him from his slumber. Those mornings, Tina would hear him bring the mugs from where she’d set them inside and settle next to her, handing her the steaming coffee and keeping the tea for himself. They’d watch the creatures either settle or stir, pull themselves into wakefulness for a new day or curl in burrows and nests to wait for the night to return. Those mornings were Tina’s favorite. She made sure to bottle the first one that ever happened, and the memory floated in an unbreakable bottle on a chain around her neck at all times.

This morning, though, she knew he had been up too late when the wooden floor didn’t creak with his shuffling, sleepy footsteps. The light was creeping ever higher in the sky and the beasts were fully awake, but he was still curled under thick blankets as his tea cooled beside him. Her brow furrowed slightly with worry and she stepped inside to see Dougal staring at her with wide eyes from the edge of Newt’s bed. Slowly, it raised the tip of a finger to its lips before moving to reach out and gently squeeze her hand. She stared, filled with a mixture of amazement and bewilderment as the demiguise gently released her fingers and walked out the front door, back to its home in the bamboo forest.

Tina simply stood and gawked in the direction the creature had left for a few more moments before remembering why she had come inside in the first place. Carefully, she sat on the edge of the cot and reached to brush a curl of hair away from his eyes. He let out a soft, sleepy sound and curled in his blankets a little tighter, but didn’t wake up as she carefully withdrew her hand. He’d clearly been up late- he rarely stayed so deeply asleep when she’d come down. Whenever this did happen, she’d find sketches and notes strewn about, see spatters of ink disguised alongside his freckles, uncurl his hand to find his fingers more ink-stained than if she’d fingerprinted him at work. But as she gently lifted his hand into her lap and uncurled it, it was no more blackened than her own. Her brow furrowed as she carefully ran her fingers over the lines of his palm, glancing to see his notebooks, inkwells, even the exotic quills neatly tucked in their places. With each sweeping glance around the room, the knot of worry in her chest balled a little tighter, and she curled his hand back up and placed it back on the bed next to her. _I could leave him to rest just a little longer_ , she thought as she slowly ascended the ladder, and casting a glance back to his sleeping form, added, _he probably needs it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys can't tell, I still don't have a beta/editor and it's slowly killing me. But my wonderful friend who got stuck with a organic chemistry midterm is going to see the movie this weekend and has agreed to help out! Which, honestly, is amazing, and I just want to do a little kind of public thank-you to her for whenever she ends up reading this. Next chapter we actually hit a little bit of plot, and while I have some bits and pieces of ahead chapters already written out (I rarely write in chronological order) most of the meat of said plot line is absent. Like I said- a lot of domestic fluff. Like, loads of domestic fluff. Hopefully this sates any need for a new chapter for a little while, as I'm going home for Thanksgiving tonight and we'll see how well I can survive my grandparents and steal away time to write. Again, your comments are my lifeblood and I'd love to hear what you have to say about the work, the title (still taking suggestions, guys!), and even any fan theories you have <3 I love talking with you guys and hope you enjoy this chapter and what's to come!


	3. Two Kinds of Awakening

“Would you please stop worrying so much? Honestly, if you look towards the guest room one more time-”

“I’m just worried, Queenie.” Her sister half-laughed, half-scoffed at her statement, an annunciated puff of mild exasperation from between pink lips as she bustled about the kitchen.

“Of course you are, sweetie. Something is a little off, and your career-girl thinking made you look at it like a crime scene.” Her sister paused, wand still held lightly in the air as she turned to look at Tina. “You know, sometimes you just have to trust in someone a little.” The auror sighed and settled in one of the dining room chairs, gently massaging her temples with the balls of her fingers. A pink sleeve accidentally dragged in the flour as the elegant wand waved through the air, piecing together that morning’s breakfast in the air with ease and sending it soaring through the air to the plates on the tables. Tina’s eyes were blankly staring at nothing, her mind spinning with worry, supplemented by her sister’s input- _no ink, no papers- still asleep- there’s something wrong- not right- why would he- I’m sure it’s something small- needs the rest- I trust him- of course I trust him, I love him-_

Queenie’s squeal was deafening.

The witch was turned fully around from the counter, facing her sister with wide eyes and her hands covering her mouth. She hadn’t even stopped to put down her wand, which was pressed against her cheek as she clasped her hands over her lips and watched her sister’s head jerk up at the noise. Almost immediately, she was rushing over to swoop her sister into a tight hug.

“That’s wonderful!” Her sister’s enthusiasm was completely bewildering to Tina, and she slowly went over each bit of her thought process before she found it. There was a pause, a moment where she couldn’t process or think, followed by-

“Oh.” Then, again, softer, “ _Oh_.”

“This is wonderful, and I know he feels it too, Teenie, you should hear how often he thinks of you, it’s practically-”

“No, no, Queenie, no,” she says quickly, hands in the air as if to bat away the words coming from her sister’s mouth. “I- I can’t hear what’s inside his head, I can’t. If… if he wants to tell me, then he can, but it just feels…” _There isn’t an accurate enough word_ , she thinks, brow furrowed and hands unconsciously migrating towards her temples, so she settles on “… wrong.” She opened up squinted eyes and meets her sister’s now somber expression, the witch’s pink lips lightly pressing together as she listened.

“All right, just one more thing,” she says, letting a soft smile engulf her face again as she waved away any protest. “Each time he looks at you, he thinks, _she’s perfect_.”

* * *

 

She gave him another few hours of rest before she climbed down the ladder once more. Gently settling on the side of the bed, she reached out to gently shake his shoulder. “Newt, it’s time to get up,” she said softly, pulling back her hand as he slowly sat up and blinked himself awake. His hair was tousled and bed-mussed, and there was something sweet about his blinking, yawning sleepiness.

“Oh, goodness, I overslept- what time is it?”

“Almost nine,” she answered softly, not wanting to be too loud and startle him in his hazy half-awake state. Of course, that was right about when the erumpent decided to let out another warning call, this one effectively shaking the little hut they were in and making them both jump in surprise. Fully awake now, they exchanged smiles and she raised her voice a touch more confidence.

“So, what kept the great Newt Scamander up this night? Magical bedbugs? Were the moon calves wandering amongst the other regions again?”

“Just- thoughts, that’s all. There… It was simply a few worries about today. Nothing you need to be concerned with.” Her brow furrowed for a moment, confused, until it clicked.

“Today’s the memorial,” she noted, her expression sobering. Slowly, she reached out to rest a hand on his knee, trying to provide what comfort she could.

“I’m quite alright Miss Tina. No need to worry,” he said with an easy air of dismissal, brushing her hand away. His eyes told a different story, though, heavy with worry and shaded with a darkness she couldn’t identify. The look passed as he tried to brighten his expression with the question, “Now, I’m going to hazard a guess that your sister has made an absolutely scrumptious breakfast?”

“Would you ever be wrong guessing that?” she asked lightly, trying to bring the smile back to his face and barely succeeding as the edges of his lips turned up. “I’ll leave to let you dress and come up,” the auror said, stepping towards the ladder, and smirking, “or else Queenie would never let me live down the scandal.” Catching one last glimpse of the magizoologist’s suddenly red-flushed cheeks and slightly ajar lips, she scaled the ladder and climbed back into her guest room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves, I'm having extraordinarily less time than I thought I would. I've been listening to Postmodern Jukebox to get myself in the mood of the era, but for some reason this middle bit just isn't flowing for me. Bonus points for finals coming up, so the next few chapters might be dramatically delayed. No promises on timing, but hopefully the next chapter will be up within the next half-week to a week? Either way, hope you enjoy this! Please remember I live off of your wonderful comments and critiques, and thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> P.S. I made the chapter total 6- I think it should be around there, but it might be 7 or so. We'll see!


	4. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina discuss the upcoming event with an air of foreboding, introducing our first true elements of hurt/comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes, it's named after the Of Monsters and Men song. I did mention I'm terrible at naming things, correct?)

When Newt did surface in his usual teal coat over a Hufflepuff-gold waistcoat, Tina was re-warming breakfast as Queenie smuggled Jacob into their apartment. The no-maj ginned and wrapped Newt in a sudden warm hug. The magizoologist stiffened at the contact before awkwardly smiling and attempting to return the motion. When the baker released him from his tight grip, he awkwardly shuffled back and asked, “How- were you able- is your bakery doing well?” A slow smile broadened on Jacob’s face at his friend’s awkwardness.

“Yeah, it’s doing great, actually. Much thanks to your occamy eggs,” he added. “The little pastry creatures, especially the nifflers, sell incredibly well. I made them even before I properly remembered- I guess my mind just wanted to remember this too much.” His hands moved in little circles, gesturing to where Tina’s clothes were ironing themselves and the clothes racks were turning themselves to even things out in front of the fire, then finally to a beaming Queenie. She flounced over to her love and gently kissed him on the cheek before moving to continue her magical cooking. Newt awkwardly coughed at Jacob’s dreamy stare and glanced to Tina, who gave him a small smile of her own and lifted the plate just a touch to gesture it was for him before she set it in front of one of the chairs and went back to re-warming the pot of coffee with the wave of her wand. Seemingly grateful for the opportunity to get out of the situation, he quickly nudged around a serene Jacob and settled at the table. 

“Love, you’re going to have to snap out of it if you want Newt to stop looking like his erumpent sat on him. I think I might wilt of his embarrassment.” Jacob’s smile went from a dreamy, lost smile to something a little more concrete as he wandered up to Queenie and put his arms around her waist, pulling her to sway to the music with him. The magizoologist was awkwardly poking at the eggs and sausages in front of him, and Tina couldn’t help but smile over her coffee as her sister and the baker danced around the living space. “Looove,” Queenie softly cooed, drawing out the word, “if we don’t stop, I do believe that Mister Scamander will melt to nothing from awkwardness and my sister will die of hilarity.” This, of course, made Newt fluoresce an even brighter shade of maroon. Tina smirked and settled across from him, settling back into the chair and taking a sip before adding her own two cents.

“It’s all right, took me months to get used to them,” she added. Newt nodded, but looked no less awkward as he finished his meal and placed the dishes in the sink. The auror smiled as she rose form her chair to pull her blue coat over her business-smart clothes, glancing at her sister meaningfully before saying, “We’ll be off, then.”

“Off where, exactly?” Her eyes flicked over to where the magizoologist was absentmindedly waving his wand over the dishes, not even looking at them as he asked his question. Of course, this led to the dishes slamming into the side of the sink and shattering, making them all jump as a string of apologies flew from his tongue.

“ _Reparo_ ,” he and Tina said in unison, pointing their wands at the shards as they knit themselves back together. Ruffling his hair with his free hand, he repeated “As I was saying, we’ll be off where, exactly?”

“I figured I’d take you by Central Park so you could enjoy it without any wild erumpents,” Tina answered with a smile. There was something off about her expression, something a little dark and hidden behind it that made a small knot of anxiety form in his gut. There was a subtlety to it, a _please don’t ask_ lining the look in her eyes, and so he let it pass, instead nodding and opening the door for her to step out first.

“We’ll be back in time to get ready, Queenie.” Her sister nodded, turning in her lover’s arms so he could spin her to the music as her sister headed out the door.

* * *

 

Tina and Newt walked together down the streets, the auror leading by a half-step and the case between the two of them. She’d long ago realized that it went with him practically anywhere, and they’d taken to keeping it between them lest the niffler spot something shiny again. It was quiet between the two of them, but the morning streets were bustling with life and energy as newspaper stands shouted the latest headlines and cars growled their way down the roads. It was, quite frankly, a touch out of Newt’s element and he hurried to keep up with Tina’s rapid pace.

Soon enough, they were wandering through the park, their feet following the path that cut through frosted expanses of grass.

“Tina- what’s- are you quite all right?” he asked hesitantly as her pace slowed to a more relaxed gait, her eyes still on the bare frames of trees scattered across the landscape. Step by step she slowed until they were standing next to a bench, looking over the frozen lake and the bridge that arced over it.

“I’ll be all right after today,” she said softly. Ripping her gaze away from the serenity of the landscape, she gently took his hand in hers. “Listen, I have to tell you something.” She watched his brow slowly bunch up as he grew increasingly concerned. His hand slowly tugged hers so they came to sit on the bench and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for his reaction. His other hand came to cover hers

“Newt, I know you’re aware that… well, the memorial is today. I just wanted to let you know that President Picquery informed me she might… call us out, per say.” Her eyes darted up from where her fingers were idly picking at the hem of her jacket to Newt’s gaze, begging him to understand what she meant. There was a long pause, coated in a mixture of shock and confusion of what she was implying.

“Why?” She sighed as he managed to get out the word, spit out like it was the only thing he could pull from a whirlwind of thought too fast to manage.

“It’s… a formality, I assume. She wants to thank us for... ‘minimizing damages’, as she phrased it,” she said, the words spilling from her mouth in a long sigh.

“So it’s for keeping him there so her forces could essentially obliterate him.” There was a moment in which she let the darkness in his voice wash over her, the loathing for the very thought seeped deep into the words. There was no response, no reassurance she could provide. There was only the soft quiet of the wintertime gently coating the scene as they stared at the landscape around them.

“I’m sorry.” She could feel his gaze flicker to her again, and this time she looked up to meet it with her own. “I asked her not to, but she said that she needed to ‘appease her colleagues’.” It was a sour taste on her tongue, and she glanced away again with the bitterness they spread.

“I don’t mean any offence to you or your profession, Tina, but I do hate politics.”

“I understand.” His hands squeezed hers softly. “I rather detest this side of it.”

They sat there, hands clasped together and sides pressing warmth between them, breathing in the chilled winter air as children scrambled onto the ice to skate. Watching the scene was serene and peaceful as they mentally steeled themselves for what was to come.

After a few moments, she suddenly felt Newt shift beside her, an awkward shuffle as he turned himself more towards her. Her eyes flicked over to him and noticed the concern in his expression as his gaze flicked over her face and to the snow beside them, never making contact as his mouth held just barely open. Several small noises started and halted just as quickly from between his parted lips, the beginnings of many retracted sentences and questions before he settled on, “Forgive me for prying but- how are you? Are you… are you doing well?” He must have seen the confusion that pulled at her brows, as he quickly stammered, “I mean- goodness, I’m afraid my phrasing is escaping me at the moment. I understand you’re concerned for me, but I hope you know I am equally as worried for you. If anything, more so, as you knew him before the… the incident.” The last word was soft, careful, trying not to disturb the calm quiet the snow had wrapped them in.

“I’ll be all right,” she replied with a little smile that didn’t reach her eyes like he knew it should. His hand tightened around hers and he prefaced his next statement with a slow intake of breath and finally bringing his eyes to meet hers.

“Tina, your sister told me I needed a giver, and you are, you truly are. But please, let me return some of that. I cannot help if- if you keep me out.” There was an intensity in his gaze she rarely saw, something that only crept out when he was tending to a gravely wounded beast or pulling a terrified creature tighter into the cradle of his arms. It was protective, it was caring, and something physically ached inside of her. Tears tugged at her eyes, gathering in the corners and tracing their icy paths down the lines and curves of her face.

“Tina? Did I- did I say something wrong? What-”

“No, no-” she gasped out, trying not to break into full tears, “no, Newt, I’m just- I’m just so terribly worried.” His mouth closed, cutting off whatever sentence was in its formation, and he ran his thumb gently back and forth over the back of her hand as she continued. “I’m very much to blame for not helping Credence out of that situation initially, and I’m so worried I’ll- I’ll do this in front of all my superiors,” she said, pulling a single hand away to wipe away a tear and gesture to the streaks marking her cheeks. “I’m just worried that it will all, simply put, well up and make a mess of things.” Part of her wanted to spill out her heart right there and then- the guilt for not taking the poor boy out of the house in the first place, the ache whenever she thought of what he’d become and how he’d been destroyed because she couldn’t stop it, how she couldn’t protect him against her own organization- but she knew that if she did, they’d never be back in time for the memorial. Even more so, Newt was struggling with his own demons, and she could manage her own. Tina was the quiet sister, the calm, controlled, and logical one, so she bottled it up inside with a deep breath and a swallow. A hand gently wiped the last of her tears from her eyes and a quick subtle wave of her wand erased the evidence. Reaching forward to squeeze Newt’s hand again, she gave a soft smile and stood to pull him up from the bench.

“We should go,” she said briskly, trying to deflect any reaction before it had even occurred, but as she moved to turn away and towards the path, Newt’s grip on her hands increased and he pulled her back to look at him. They were close, their hands still clasped between them, breaths spinning little white clouds into the air.

“Tina, I believe that of anyone in this world, you have the utmost strength and composure for this. You will make it through,” he said, his eyes soft and kind as his lips spilled reassurances. His gaze flitted away momentarily, like he hadn’t rehearsed anything further, but he managed to continue like an actor who knew the part but not the lines. “I know- I know you’re holding something back, but I won’t pry. I just think- I know, rather, you’re strong and you’re capable and you’re wonderful and nothing in the world could ever change that.” She swallowed hard and blinked back sudden tears, gently squeezing his hands in reassurance as his face twisted into deeper concern.

“Thank you, Newt,” she whispered, leaning to press her lips to his cheek before she tugged him down the path home, their fingers intertwined and steps slow and steady as they held each other together through clasped hands and the lingering feeling of their words in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as stated in the description, this damn thing just keeps getting longer each time I look at it. We went up from 6-7 chapters to more like 8. Still not done writing but HERE COMES FINALS WEEK INTENT ON MURDER. So please don't expect another chapter any time soon because anyone who's an editor for me is generally in college as well so we're all mutually suffering and getting no other work done. Which is kind of killing my creative vibe a little since I have a few one-shot ideas and a whole plan for a three-fic series that all interlock and whatnot. It's like nothing I've ever written before and I'm rather excited about it, but it's on hold until both finals and this fic are done. Anywho, this is the first chapter looked at in-depth by an editor (or the first two-thirds or so, since I wrote the other bit in the last, like, hour and she had to sleep). Hopefully it helped with quality and whatnot (though I do know her pointers about the overall focus and such especially did). Hope you enjoyed this one, though, and I do hope to hear back from you about what you thought! Please remember that your comments and critiques could not be more loved and appreciated, and thank you for reading!
> 
> @my lovely, lovely editor: okay, so I didn't listen for some of the name things. Sorry. I just have a THING about re-using names a kajillion times. Forgive me?


	5. Black Garb and Grieving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memorial comes, and emotions are running high.

When they arrived home, Queenie was already dressed a drab grey dress, with clean-cut black lines and a black wrap around her shoulders. Tina sighed and kissed the magizoologist on the cheek before heading to her own room to get changed, leaving him to climb down into his suitcase and find presentable clothes. When he surfaced again, he found Tina in a long black coat over a similarly drab dress, sitting at the table with the fingers of one hand pressed to her temple and her other hand mindlessly making circles with her wand.

“Tina, you’re making it rain on poor Picket.”

Her head jerked up and her hand stopped twirling, her jaw falling slack momentarily before she started to apologize for dousing both him and the bowtruckle in the absentminded rain she’d caused. With a quick sweep of her wand, she re-dried his hair and black coat, as well as the floor. Beyond the black coat and pants, his outfit was the same, and she stepped forward to straighten his tie. Letting her hands fall from her finished work, she looked up to see his lips pressed together in worry. Her own fears were a river, murmuring and bubbling under the surface of her skin, but Tina had always been more caring for others than herself.

“Hey.” He looked down at her, her hands on his chest and his coming up to gently rest on her arms. “This will be okay. We’ll make it through all right.” He nodded and she leaned forward to gently press her lips against his, something soft and tender and all too short. But as Queenie stepped into the room and they pulled away from each other, they knew it was time to go.

* * *

 

President Picquery stood atop the high platform in the MACUSA internal pentagram office, the seats filled with somber elected officials adorned in black. The mood was heavy with crushing quiet. Even Miss Picquery seemed dampened in mood as well as style; her usual garb with the golden accents were gone, replaced with a long, blue-black dress and a matching head wrap. The Goldstein sisters and the magizoologist were sitting along one of the lower rows, in prominent view of the auditorium alongside high ranking officials and delegates, the emotions twitching Queenie’s lip and furrowing Newt’s brow making them stick out among the stoic faces like a sore thumb. Tina could feel the president’s gaze flickering over them, but when she looked up, she found that Miss Picquery was stepping forward to commence the event.

“My friends and colleagues,” she began, her voice steady and calm as she addressed the room with a sweeping glance, “we sit here today to mourn the deaths of Credence Barebone and the no-maj citizens whose lives were lost in the resulting chaos.” Images slowly appeared behind her, busts of those lost and Tina felt an odd lump settled in her throat at the sight. Her sister’s hand came to rest on her knee, providing comfort to them both as the usually peppy witch used her free hand to dab away tears. “Today is the one year anniversary of the conclusion of those events. In this year, not only have we raised the initiative and people to start a task force addressing the issue of magical children born in non-magical households, but we have started a foster home for those whose homes were unreceptive of their child’s abilities or otherwise ill-suited for the children’s needs as members of our community. Thus far, we have had numerous successes and are ready to expand this practice to other cities across the country.” The president paused, taking a deep breath as she skimmed the crowd and found Tina and Newt. Her eyes stayed affixed to theirs as she stated, calm and resolute, “There need never again be a child like Credence Barebone.” The moment was long and drawn out as councilmembers and civilians alike bowed their heads in remembrance of the destruction caused and lives lost. After what felt like an eternity, she continued.

“We are not only here to mourn,” she continued, “but also to thank.” Turning her gaze towards the pair once more, she stated, “I would like to first thank the two people who acted as quickly and resolutely as they could to protect not only the members of our community, but the no maj population and our place in this fair city. Auror Porpentina Goldstein and renowned Magizoologist and Author Newton Scamander were the first responders and minimalized much of the damage that could have been caused during the incident, and for that the Congress thanks them.” Newt bashfully averted his eyes as the crowd respectfully applauded them both, and Tina didn’t know where to look as her superiors and colleagues alike applauded. Her sister’s grip tightened as the sound of the clapping swelled in the space, echoing off the cold stone walls and sharp corners of the room. Picquery let the clapping die down before she continued, “Furthermore, I would like to thank our official first response team, Aurors Loxias, Bobbin…” She went on with the names, continuing from the aurors to thank members of the task force that had started the facility for the children, introduce the main caretakers and so forth, but Tina wasn’t listening. She could only see Newt slowly shaking his head beside her and whispering “no,” softly to himself as she swallowed down the lump rising in her throat.

“She shouldn’t have thanked me,” he murmured so only she could hear. “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him, and by keeping him there, I practically killed him.”

There was nothing to say to that, no way to speak without shattering her calm façade, no room left for comfort as the chamber was silently affixed to the President’s words. Instead, she gently slipped her hand into his and intertwined their fingers, hoping the warmth and touch would be enough.


	6. The First Tears

It was a quiet night for them all. Jacob was waiting in the apartment after a long day at work, extra pastries on the table and a kettle of boiling water on the stove. He comfortingly embraced Queenie when they arrived home and managed to pull a sad smile from her pink-lined lips. They gathered around the table and picked at the meal, but the usually merry table was quiet and contemplative. The memorial was on everybody’s mind, the rampant fear of exposure and the hard-hitting speech still echoing through their thoughts. Tina noticed her sister shifting more and more uncomfortably as the four of them picked at their food, and couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable it must have been with so many negative thoughts swirling through just one head.

 

Newt was the first to leave. He mumbled out some soft excuse and left his food next to untouched before he retired for the night, quickly moving to find his suitcase in the guest room and disappearing into its depths. Jacob kissed Queenie softly, gently placing the dishes in the sink before moving to the living room to read the news. Tina couldn’t help but think of how integrated her sister’s love had become into their world as the images swirled about the paper and the baker didn’t even flinch.

 

“He really has become a part of this,” her sister said with a smile, waving her wand so the water ran and the sponge began to scrub their plates. “He loves it, and I think we’ve been doing a good job hiding it from MACUSA. Or at least, it’s not on anybody’s minds.”  _ Of course you would know _ . The auror raised an eyebrow as she thought at her sister, who smirked and giggled a touch as she finished setting the dishes to be washed and migrated towards the center of the room. “Yes, I would, wouldn’t I? But Tina, it’s… it’s sad right now. All these bad thoughts- your man, especially.” Immediately, she was struck off-balance by her sister’s use of the words  _ your man _ , but Queenie was too busy to wait for her thoughts to settle.

 

“You shoulda’ heard him, Teenie,” he sister murmured, soft eyes filled with concern, “He’s blaming himself for Credence’s death, the deaths of all the no-maj, even for the poor Nigerian girl. You’re not too sunshine-y yourself, but you’re holding together for now. Newt- well, Mister Scamander isn’t… doing so well.” The words were careful, thoughtful as the witch turned from her sister to look at the fireplace. “He hated that he was thanked. It was as though he was being thanked for his failure, like he was thanked for keeping that sweet kid there like an animal for slaughter, and he’s turning that hatred inward.” Sighing softly, she turned back to the fireplace and smoothly arced her wand through the air, making the glowing embers roll into large warm flames once more. “He’s a sweet, hurting soul that needs someone right now. Go to him,” she said, softly, slowly, as though the words were china beads rolling off her tongue. Tina swallowed hard, and her sister turned to her, blue eyes glowing with meaning. “Go to him.”

 

* * *

 

As she stepped off the ladder, she heard gentle, quiet sobs in the dim light of the hut. “Newt?” There was a pause between the sounds of crying, the quiet of someone steadying their breath and bringing themselves together again.

 

“T-Tina.” It sounded like he could barely get her name out, like he was compressing the air inside of him so it wouldn’t shake and run ragged with another broken sound. She turned and walked towards the sound of his voice, wet with tears and ragged with exhaustion, and as her eyes adjusted she started to make out his shape hunched over at the edge of his cot. Carefully, she settled next to him, their sides pressed together reassuringly. His hands came down from where they covered tear-streaked cheeks and settled in his lap as he turned to look at her. Moving slowly, she reached to intertwine her fingers with his, resting their balled up hands in his lap as her thumb swept circles over his skin.

 

“I know,” she breathed, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “I know, I know, I know-” Her soft whispers were a mantra, the only thing keeping her together as he leaned his head against her and wept quietly. There was something painful inside of her, a knot of anxiety that whispered that she might not be able to fix this. She did her best to ignore it and the lump forming in her throat as she kept whispering, kept reassuring, kept herself together for the sake of the man she cared so deeply about. Her head tilted to rest on his, a soft, reassuring warmth and contact as her lips continued to repeat the words like a prayer.

 

“I should have been able to save him,” Newt manages to get out, his voice hoarse and his breathing uneven. “I could have, I know I could have. I- I should have saved them both. I-”

 

“No, no, you can’t blame yourself.” Her words gently shushed him, and she can feel the tremble in her chest starting to affect her words. “You did everything you could. For him and the girl. You did everything- everything you could, Newt. I- I should have gotten him out of there sooner. This isn’t your fault.” The  _ it’s mine _ stayed silent in her head. It wasn’t her place to make this about her. He needed her right now- she could deal with her own guilt later. “It’s not your fault. You- you protected him from Grindelwald down there. You talked to him. You calmed him down. It’s not your fault. You did everything- absolutely everything you could for him.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his forehead, wishing she could make him see himself like she did. “You were probably the first person to be genuinely kind to- to him.”

 

“Tina, you cursed his mother to protect him,” he reminded her, pulling away just enough to give her a watery smile. She met it with her own, sad eyes and upturned lips painting contradiction over them both.

 

“I suppose that’s- that’s fair. But you still stood up for him. You dueled the most prominent dark wizard of our time, put his safety above your own- he couldn’t have asked for anything more.” She watched as a sigh pulled its way from his lips and she leaned in to press a quick kiss to them. Though it was barely a peck, they kept themselves pressed close, their foreheads moving to rest together and eyes closed. His breaths, still shaky, were steadying with each one he took.

 

“Thank you.” His soft words were barely audible in the quiet stillness that surrounded them. She squeezed his hand softly, a reassurance and a response, a gesture that meant all the emotions she couldn’t bind to words. They sat there for a long while, breathing in each other’s presence and unwilling to move from where their hands and bodies were so intertwined. It was a quiet comfort, no words, just the feeling of another person holding them like they were the most important person in the world. And maybe, in that moment, they were. Tina was overwhelmed by this feeling, like there was something swelling in her ribcage until it practically ached, and she only broke their position to wrap him in a tight hug, her arms holding him close to her as his breaths gently running along the crook of her neck.

 

“Tina, this may be terribly indecent, but will- will you stay with me tonight?” he whispered, the words a warm caress of his breath on her skin. There was a pause, a moment in which all the thoughts in the world stampeded through her head. She let them flow away, though, let her thoughts go and pulled back just enough so she could cup his cheek with her hand and look into his eyes, wide and genuine and fixated on hers. She let her head just barely nod as she ran her thumb over his cheek, her emotions taking the lead over her mind as she felt the wetness on his skin.

  
He tugged gently on her arm and she didn’t put up any resistance, let him pull her into bed with him. It was a quiet, warm comfort to have another body in bed with her, his long arms wrapped snugly around her waist and her head gently resting on his chest. She could feel his breaths, ever so slightly still quaking and trembling, gradually slow and even out as his body relaxed. The cloud of sleep was engulfing them both, and she let herself move to press a last, soft kiss to his neck before it swept him away to a grey, dreamless sleep, wrapped in her warm embrace. Sleep wasn’t a friend to her, though, and she took a deep nervous breath and tried to focus on her love’s slow, steady breaths as it picked her up and whisked her away for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god it's been forever since I posted. I'm really just so sorry- family is over, things are crazy, and I think my head might just explode. I can't wait to be back to school, quite honestly, but hey- Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays! Here's a seasonal present of a chapter :P Do remember I love love love reading your comments and cannot wait to hear any and all reactions <3
> 
> Side note- I've just begun listening to Critical Role and am wondering if there are any other fans? Do tell me in the comments! :D


	7. Guilt

Tina was standing in a church she knew all too well. Two hands snapping a wand in a burst of light were displayed prominently before her, and there was a lump of emotion caught in her throat as Mary Lou Barebone smiled and ushered the last of the children out with fliers crumpled in dirty hands. There was something sinister about the way the woman’s lips thinned with her expression, and bile rose in her throat.

 

“Hello, Miss. Are you here to heed our message, to eradicate the evil witches and wizards who wish us such harm?” the woman asked kindly, stepping forward and opening her hands in a welcoming gesture. “All who believe in a Second Salem are welcome here.” 

 

As she spoke, her pupils widened beyond possibility, coating her eyes in a demonic blackness. Tina stumbled backwards, jaw slack, hand reaching out behind her to steady herself against the wall. The dark, soulless eyes drilled into her, emotionless and hollow. There was a sudden crash behind the podium and Mary Lou turned quickly to stand before a cowering Credence. Tears were trickling slowly down his face, hands scrambling to sweep up shattered pieces of glass from the wooden floor. His mother’s face was as rigid and cold as her frigid steps clicked against the floor, a harsh juxtaposition to Credence’s trembling hands, Mary Lou’s moving almost mechanically to gesture for his belt. Fingers trembling, he undid the metal buckle and handed it over. Everything seemed to slow as the weapon rose above the woman’s head and began to come down on the boy.

 

“Expelliarmus!” Tina cried as she rushed forward, the belt flying through the air as she stood defiantly in the center of the room. Her wand was brandished, her heart thumping a mile a minute, and there was fire reflecting in the black demonic eyes as the head of the Second Salem movement turned to scream “WITCH!” She started out confidently towards Tina, moving away from her son with a sour twist in her lips revealing gritted teeth, but each step she took slowed to a stop as though a spell had frozen her mid-pace. There, trembling on the ground, was Credence, shaking with barely suppressed emotion.

 

The witch watched as her breath tangled to form a lump in her throat, eyes fixed on his back rising and falling with each heaving lungful of air. The moment was heavy, like the air was as thick as syrup, slowing each movement while she lowered her wand. The only sounds were the rasping breaths from Credence’s huddled form, and Tina swallowed hard before she took a step forward. The tap of her shoe on the ground as she took the slow, careful step felt like it echoed through the room.

 

“Credence?” she whispered softly, his name a begging, desperate sound on the softest breath between her lips. His dark eyes looked up at her and they froze like that, the moment stretched as thin and taut as piano wire between them both. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as she watched his eyes, distrust and weariness reflected in their watery depths as he examined her.

 

The world was in slow motion.

 

And then it was all too fast.

 

Credence’s face twisted horribly, an expression of so many kinds of pain as he suddenly screamed like a banshee and exploded into a roaring darkness. The blackness ripped his form apart in front of her, erupting like wings from his back and spreading under his skin until it burst- inch after inch of flesh, limb after limb, spreading throughout his form until it began to consume his agonized face. The boy was no more, and instead there was a being of pure energy before her, dark and hauntingly suspended as grains of sand in a whirlwind. It streamed and raced around the room, along the ceiling and walls, inhumanly screeching as it grew. It swept through Mary Lou in a gust of black smoke, and Tina’s eyes widened in horror as the woman fragmented and shattered like glass. Each piece that fell to the ground exploded with a melodic tinkling, a dust that was swept up by the billowing blackness that was now surrounding her. She was frozen in place, her chest heaving as the room felt like it was slowly loosing oxygen. Credence- the obscurus, it wasn’t Credence any more- was circling wildly, like a shark honing in on its prey. It was closing in, the noise reaching an agonizing pitch as the circles grew tighter and tighter, and Tina couldn’t help but cry out in pain as her hands jerked up to protect her ears.

 

“ **_WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE ME?!_ ** ” it bellowed, Credence’s voice warped and deepened into something twisted and demonic. “ **_YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED IT ALL. WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE ME?!_ ** ” Tina’s eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were over her ears as she fell to her knees, the darkness swirling around her like a cyclone. She was the eye of the storm, bent over as if to beg for forgiveness and shelter herself from a blow. Tears streamed down her face as she screamed apologies, futile attempts to beg for his forgiveness as each word was drowned out by the roaring of the obscurus closing in around her.

 

“I tried, I tried, Credence, I swear-” she babbled, tears staining dark splotches on the wood. It cut her off with its own screams, the wind tugging at her coat and hair, whipping everything into a frenzy around her.

 

“ **_YOU FAILED._ ** ” The voice reverberated through her bones, vibrating the very core of her being. “ **_YOU FAILED AS AN AUROR, YOU FAILED TO SAVE US, YOU FAILED TO STOP THIS CATASTROPHE. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT._ ** ” She could barely breathe through her hiccupping sobs and the feeling like the tornado was sucking the very air from her lungs. “ **_YOU FAILED ME, TINA! YOU FAILED ME._ ** ” It kept closing in on her and she felt the freezing cold start to press against her body, a painful pressure on her skin as it moved to cover more and more of her.

  
“ **_TINA!_ ** ” it screamed, and she felt hands on her body, everywhere, grabbing at her, trying to rip her to shreds. Her sobs wracked her body as her hands scrabbled to rip them all off, but they were shaking her, disorienting her, and as the blackness covered her vision, she barely managed to choke out, “I-I’m sorry,” before her lungs collapsed and she could speak no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a super late chapter. I'm sorry. Today's the first day back at school, and I've been busy and distracted by Rogue One ruining my soul, but here! Second to last chapter! :D


	8. Chapter 8

Bleary eyes blinked open and Tina could barely see what was in front of her. Her breaths were hiccupping and heaving, the tears from her dream following her into reality as she noticed the blurry figure sitting on the bed in front of her.

“Tina!” it gasped, pulling her into its arms before she could even fully process who they were or where she was. She breathed in as best she could and her body practically melted into the embrace as the earthy smell of Newt and his case hit her. The tears hit her again at full force, and she sobbed into his shoulder as his hand awkwardly stroked up and down her back. He was murmuring something to her, a rambling string of words she couldn’t pick apart but that lent her comfort all the same. There was a small pause as he stopped to press his lips against her cheek, and then it was back, almost melodic in the way it flowed off his tongue. It was comforting, the warm press of his body intertwined with hers and his voice whispering to her, a constant reminder that she was here, with him, safe. She could close her eyes without fearing the demons in the darkness, and she let it engulf her as she let out all the feelings she’d been bottling up. Liquid emotion flowed from her eyes, darkening the fabric on Newt’s shoulder as she let herself hiccup and cry in his arms.

“Tina, love, what was it?” he whispered, a hand gently stroking her hair as she tried to calm herself, her raspy breaths straining to become deeper and more steady.

“Just a nightmare,” she managed to get out in a sharp breath, and he hummed a noise of discontent, hand still smoothing down her hair as comfortingly as he could. She let herself relax into him, let his warmth soothe her before steeling herself to try and explain.

“That’s the worst one I’ve gotten- I- they- they’re usually much quicker,” she gasped against his neck. “I’m all right, Newt, I’m- I’ll be all right. I’m always all right.” She felt him pull back slowly, and her arms loosened so he could pull away from their embrace to look her in the eye. Her hair was wild from the thrashing, and he tucked a strand behind her ear as he moved to cup her face in his hands, a thumb running against the streaks of wetness her tears had left behind.

“Tina, you don’t have to be strong all the time.” His words were a soft breath of air that danced the distance between them to brush against her lips, delicate and gentle. “Please, Tina, don’t try and be strong to spare me. I want to help. Let me help,” he murmured, his eyes gentle and kind and something that made her chest ache in a completely new way.

Slowly, she let herself lean into him, let him rock her in his arms and murmur soft words of comfort to her until sleep wrapped her in a softer blanket to whisk her away to a soft, dreamless grey.

* * *

 

She awoke to a heavy, furry thing atop her head and the solid warmth of another person all around her. The niffler seemed to have been a bit peeved she had taken its sleeping spot atop Newt’s chest and decided to sprawl half on the magizoologist and half on her head, but was now snoring contentedly like some strange, living head masseuse. _It’s not the worst way to wake up_ , she mused, carefully extracting an arm so she could move away the small rumbling creature and turn to face the man whose grip around her waist was still surprisingly strong in sleep. The freckles smattered across his skin were ever so present in the warm morning light, and she reached to cup his cheek, gently running a thumb over the line of his cheekbone. He must have been exhausted, mentally and physically, from the night before, as he didn’t even stir as she lay in his arms, watching him sleep with a blissful expression on his face. Slowly, she ran her hand down to his shoulder and tucked her head into his chest again, the niffler shifting to rest on the crevice where their bodies pressed together like an odd-looking cat. They both deserved a bit more rest, and as the little black creature sleepily cuddled with a shiny button from her coat she couldn’t help but smile as she drifted back into a restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry to anyone who was following this. I hadn't realized I hadn't put up the last chapter!!! So sorry. 
> 
> Anywho, this last chapter contains my own personal headcannon. Since I've been working animal rehabilitation and rescue since I was 16 AND I'm currently studying to be an Ecologist, I felt a ridiculously strong connection to Newt and totally have the headcannon that he and I do the same nonsense murmuring to animals to calm them down. It's essentially just babbling everything in a calm, soothing voice, and it works miracles (I swear it. Seriously. I might be missing fingers if it wasn't for this shit). So yeah, personal headcannon there.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed this! This will probably be my last FBAWTFT for a while, since I'm transitioning more into Critical Role for the moment (which, if you haven't heard of it, you should check it out. It's ridiculous and wonderful and totally worth watching, even if it's on 1.25 speed so you can catch up- and I'm guilty as hell for that :P). But I will come back, I swear! 
> 
> Don't forget that your comments and critiques supplement the black, shriveled thing that's supposed to be my soul! <3


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